A Pirate's Life for Me
by Ragdoll753
Summary: ...Clara slowed her step, listening intently to the two men talking. They passed by, barely acknowledging the girl. They smelled absolutely horrid, and their clothing was in tatters, their faces streaked with dirt, and, possibly, a bit of blood. Pirates.
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first POTC story, and I'm hoping it goes well. Thanks for reading, and reviews are much appreciated._

_Dislaimer - The Black Pearl, nor most of it's crew, nor Jack Sparrow were created from my imagination. The only character I own is Clara, and the ships she finds herself on. Thank you!_

_Oh, dear me! A bit of mud on my brand new shoes - whatever am I to tell mother?_ Clara thought perversely. Her shoes would be ruined, and, while she could practically see the disdainful look on her mother's face, Clara just couldn't bring herself to worry about such a trivial thing. They were shoes. Did her mother expect her to worry about _shoes?_ Really, if they were so important, they wouldn't be worn on feet.

"I thought the cap'n said we was goin' to Tortuga?"  
"We _are_ goin' to Tortuga. We just had to stop here for supplies, see? Stupid glock..."  
"Yeah, but why'd we have to stop _here_? This place is crawlin' wif lawmen. I swear I can smell 'em..."  
"We'll be back to the _Banshee_ in no time. Just relax."

Clara slowed her step, listening intently to the two men talking. They passed by, barely acknowledging the girl. They smelled absolutely horrid, and their clothing was in tatters, their faces streaked with dirt, and, possibly, a bit of blood.

_Pirates!_ Clara thought. Her heart was already pounding, her eyes widening. This had to be her chance - how often were pirates in town? She looked back and watched the two men disappear around a corner. As soon as they were out of sight, she bolted. Her long, black tresses bounced against her back as she sprinted toward the shore. Sliding to an abrupt stop at the port, she walked hurriedly down the docks, seeking out the _Banshee_.

And there she was. She wasn't anything special, that was for certain, but she was a ship nonetheless. A pirate ship. A real, mighty _pirate ship_. Her eyes sparkled as they slowly ran over the length of it, taking in the sight. This was it. It had to be Providence. Now she just had to find a way to sneak aboard...

* * *

I suppose, in light of the moment, this would be a good time to stop and fill you in on some history, so as to give you more of a feel for the characters you're being introduced to. The most obvious, of course, would be our Miss Clara, whose life you have just been so unceremoniously thrown into. So, let's get started, shall we?

Clara Anne Gray had always been an ambitious creature, right from the get-go. 'Dream' was a word she always refused to use, as it suggested that a notion or aspiration was impossible to achieve, and Clara would not hold to such constricting rules. There were no dreams, in Clara's eyes. Only ideas, whether they might be simple or wild, and a certain amount of effort being put forth to reach your intended goals.

On the island she grew up on, Clara was part of an extremely average family - her father was a merchant sailor, and her mother was a school teacher. From a very early age, she showed a great deal of interest in ships, the ocean, and - most notably - piracy. Her father was around ships a good deal, and was thrilled at the chance to teach his daughter about them, despite his wife's shrill and frequent protests.

As Clara grew, so did her intense love for the sea. When she wasn't reading the text books that her mother constantly forced upon her, it was rare not to see her down by the docks, enjoying her view of the massive ships that were regularly moving in and out of port. There was little to know of ships that Clara wasn't already fully aware of. Unfortunately, it was not only a subject of great interest to Clara, it was also a subject of great irritation for her mother.

Whenever it was brought up, Clara's face would dawn a dreamy look of pleasure, and her mother would instantly start raving about the inconveniences of sea life, and how unrealistic such a setting was for a girl. Clara's voice would adopt the sarcastic tone she had inherited from her father and defend herself, her voice laced with sharp wit. This battle became almost a daily routine for the Grays, and Clara was fast growing weary of it...

* * *

Rough, calloused hands close around Clara's slender wrists and within moments, she was dragged from her hiding spot and into the brilliant light of day. The sea shimmered in every direction, with no sign of land in sight. The miscreants were no doubt expecting the young girl to be screaming, but she could only smile. Sliding her wrists out of the grasp of the tall man that had grabbed her, Clara hurried to the railing to get a full view of the open ocean. Grinning from ear to ear with excitement, she was barely listening as the crew called for their captain to inquire what was to be done with her.

She could only guess that it must've been about two days since she'd slipped aboard the vessel and stowed away. Down in the dark, damp cranny she'd hid herself inside of, she could hear the sound of running feet and voices calling to one another on deck as the crew prepared to set sail. She could hear her heartthudding fiercely in her chestas the ship moved away from her home. Curled in a ball, she had had two days to contemplate exactly what it was she would say when she was discovered, as she knew she soon would be. She, unfortunately, was not going to be receiving the warm welcome she had hoped for.

"You, girl!" a voice called, and Clara spun around. She was suddenly shockingly aware of her surroundings, and her eyes fixed on theone that she immediately took to be the Captain of the ship. He was a menacing man, of alarming height, but Clara stood her ground. Being intimidated would do her no good in this situation. She took a cautious step forward, taking in the sight of him. He was a fairly young man - certainly no older than 30, with short, gnarled black hair, and more than a few scars littering his tanned face.

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but was instantly silenced with a quick gesture from the Captain.

"I made it _quite clear_ that our stop on that island was solely for supplies." the Captain's voice was livid and boomed over the crew. Clara was slightly taken aback. "I said that there were to be no misdeeds until we reached Tortuga, or at least until we were back on the ocean. And, yet, it seems that one of you felt the need to intentionally disobey my orders and shanghai this young girl. Well? Which of you was it, then?" he raised an eyebrow, and gazed expectantly over the dozen-and-a-half faces that made up his crew, awaiting a cnfession.

"Um, Sir..." Clara said loudly, and the crew's heads all turned as one to look back at Clara, with a slight look of shock, as though, in wake of their leader's exasperated words, they had forgotten she was there at all. "I wasn't kidnapped...I stowed away. You see, I've always loved the o-"

"Stowed away?" the still-nameless Captain said, with a dumbfounded expression on his face. "You stowed away on _our_ ship? Girl, do you have any idea who we are?"

"You're...Well, you're pirates, aren't you?"

The man's look of confusion deepened into a stare of absolute bewilderment. "You _knew _we were pirates, and you snuck aboard our ship?" he asked, then let out a harsh laugh. "That's positively the most moronic thing I've ever heard!" Clara raised her eyebrows in offense. "Do you have a score you're trying to settle with us, darling?"

"Well, no, but -" she tried.

"Then what would motivate you to do something like that? I don't know that anyone's ever intentionally snuck aboard, let alone a _girl!_ You really must be raving mad to expect anything less than death from a large group of pirates, in the middle of the ocean, with no one to rescue you, at all." he laughed once more, and, at this point, the crew joined in.

"Wait, but please, you don't understand! I want to be out on the sea -!"

"She's all yours, men." the Captain laughed, then turnedhis back towalk away to his cabin, as the rest of the crew smirked, and pulled out their swords, closing in on her.

"No, no, no, no, no!" she shrieked as they moved closer. "Please, don't! Just give me a chance! I know ships, I can _help_! Don't do this!" she begged, but they refused to listen to her pleas. This was going to require some quick thinking. She was a young girl, unarmed, in the middle of a group of dangerous, pirate men, who were looking to kill her, but quite possibly not before doing a few unspeakable things to her.

Eyes dashing over the seemingly endless faces, she tried to spot a weapon. Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realize that one of the closest men had reached for her and grabbed a handful of her hair. She squawked in surprise, and a long slur of obscenities poured out of her mouth. She elbowed him sharply in his round stomach, and he stumbled backwards, dropping his sword.

Clara had time to think _How unprofessional - dropping your weapon at a time like this. _Before snatching the weapon off the deck and holding it threateningly in front of her. She'd never picked up a blade, but it felt unusually natural in her hand. She let it swing gracefully outward towards her foes, and, when she pulled it back,was shocked to see she had managed to slice through the skin on one man's face. It left a deep gash. The crew seemed equally surprosed, as thewhole crowd went silent for a moment, eyes widened, realizing what she'd done. Her eyes darted back and forth, not sure what to do next, then made a dash across the deck and toward the helm. After a moment's confusion, the crew followed.

A hand grabbed the hem of her skirt and, with a yelp, she fell forward onto her face. She felt someone's sword bite deeply into her leg, and she gritted her teeth against the sting while scrambling back to her feet. She faced the crew, who now all looked perfectly furious with her. Gathering together all her courage, she made a few quick jabs with her sword, and managed to draw some blood from four more men. Surprised with herself for even having made it _this _far, she turned to run again, and, before the crew could catch up with her, had thrown herself into the Captain's cabin, much to his surprise.

Locking the door behind herself, she looked back to the Captain who's face was tangled with anger, confusion and incredulity. She was breathing very heavily, and blood was flowing down her leg. A bruise was already blossoming on her forehead where she'd hit the floor.

"Captain." she panted. "If it's quite alright with you, I'd like to negotiate."


	2. Chapter 2

_I had such a good time with the first chapter, I've decided to get started on the second right away. Thanks for reading, and I hope everyone's enjoying it._

"Alright, alright," he said, stepping forward, and gently pushing her out of the way, so as to reach the door. He pulled it open to view the infuriated crew. A handful of them had obvious injuries, from which blood was dripping steadily. "Calm down, ye mongrels!" the Captain yelled. "Back to work. I'll get this all sorted out."

The crew reluctantly turned away, grumbling to themselves all the while, and started up their regular duties once more, as the Captain closed the door and looked back to Clara. Her breath had steadied by now, but her heartbeat had not. Her eyes were wide, and her hands were both tightly gripping her sword. The Captain gestured for her to sit, but she was hesitant.

Rolling his eyes, he stepped slowly around his desk and sat in his own chair. "My, you're a calculating one, aren't ye? Now, please, _sit._" he insisted, offering, once more, the chair that sat opposite himself. "Need I remind you that you are the one that's armed in this situation? You're touchy and irate, when you're clearly the one with the advantage here."

"And need _I _remind _you _that I was nearly killed and God knows what else out there. I have every reason to be touchy and irate." Clara countered, her voice quite easily a bit louder than was necessary.

"Remember - _you _were the one that snuck aboard, deary, for reasons I'm unsure of. _I _certainly didn't ask for you to be here. I don't know if you were expecting us to bring you on some grand adventure, or something of the like, but whatever it is you're searching for, you clearly chose the wrong place to look. It isn't my fault you decided to hop aboard with a bunch of ne'er-do-wells that would kill you. It's their way, and you walked right into it.

"Now, you have just successfully damaged a quarter of my crew, which I'm not exactly happy about. Although, I will admit, I am a mite intrigued by the fact that ye managed to get out of there alive. Odds were certainly stacked against you, trying to defend yourself against nearly twenty grown men." Clara smiled with more than a little pride, but the look on the Captain's face made it instantly fall. "Luck. Nothin' more, nothin' less. Them men weren't expectin' a fight out ofye, and when you turned out to be a feisty little devil, they weren't quick enough to get their wits about 'em. Still, it's..." he trailed off, and looked about the cabin a moment, clearly deep in thought. "You ever picked up a blade before now, Miss?" he asked after a few moments of thoughtful silence.

"Uh, no, sir, never." she answered quickly, her voice now a good deal softer. He narrowed his eyes at her, and chewed the inside of his cheek.

"Well, that certainly is peculiar." he said. They sat in silence a bit longer, before he asked, "You have a name?"

"Oh, yes. Clara," she said, nodding. "Clara Gray. And you, sir?"

"Jones be m'name..." he said softly.

"Well, Captain Jones," Clara said, her voice adopting a much more business-like tone. "I have a proposition for you."

"Aye?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you must understand, I've loved the ocean since I was a little girl. And, in spite of the whole...being nearly raped and murdered scene back there, this is a dream come true, and I really can't stress that enough. I was born the daughter of a sea merchant, so I'm no stranger to ships. He worked on a schooner a lot like this one, so I know my way, and I'm damn handy to have around. I can help aboard this ship. Anything - everything the normal crew does, I'm up for it. Just let me stay aboard until you reach your next destination. Then I'll be off, and you won't ever have to worry about me again." her eyes were wide and glossy with desire.

Captain Jones considered the girl for a moment, furrowing his brow. "Well, I'm disinclined to trust ye, lass, but I'm willing to give it a try." Clara could feel her jaw drop, but only vaguely. She didn't believe it had worked. "Now, I have some terms of my own, which I imagine you should be aware of. First, I am very protective of my crew, which, for the record, does not include you. If you should take it upon yourself to strike up a fight, then it's your battle, and I won't be bothered to include myself in it to come to your rescue. If you should happen to win - which is highly unlikely - then it won't matter all that much, as I'll likely to be tossing you overboard anyhow for hurting or killing my crew.

"Secondly, I will tell the men to keep their hands off of you, but I guarantee nothing. And, once more, since you're not part of my crew, I won't be punishing anyone for mistreatin' ye. I imagine my word against it should be enough to keep 'em away from you, but if one should happen to get enough rum in hisself, I won't be going all to tears for losin' you in a brawl.

"Thirdlyand I put all emphasis on this final rule - do not muck up your duties. You'll be in the ocean faster'n you can say "Parley" if you should do somethin' the way it's not meant to be done. So, to sum things up - just keep in mind: your death won't bother me none, so I'd say it'd be best for you to avoid anything that might motivate me into killin' ye. S'not as if I don't already have justification enough for killing you on the spot.

"The galley's below deck, along with the crew's quarters. You feel uncomfortable sleepin' with the crew, you can be cold and sleep up on deck under the stars - makes no difference to me." he stood up and walked around the desk toward the door. "We should be in Tortuga in no more than eighteen days, at which point, I will see to it that you do indeed leave our ship. I want nothing more to do with you once you're gone, so no sneaking aboard again. I will be puttin' someone on duty this time around to ensure it doesn't happen. That said, I think we've got everything covered. Any questions?"

"None at all, Captain." Clara said eagerly, jumping up from her chair, ready to begin work at once.

"Very good," Jones said, opening the door. "Now, let's go test your limits." holding the door open, he gestured out to the deck, allowing Clara to go first.

She stepped out, with a determined smile carved on her features. _Here we go.

* * *

_

"So, you're sure you wouldn't like to stay aboard a bit longer, Clara?" Captain Jones asked for the fourth time. They had reached Tortuga, and Clara was saying her goodbyes to the crew. She could almost see tears forming in the eyes of a few of them. In the two and a half weeks she'd been with them, Clara had been all but promoted to first mate. Everyone on the _Banshee _had grown accustomed to her (not to mention the food she made). They were having more trouble letting go then anyone would have predicted. She and the Captain stood side-by-side at the helm, readying themselves for a farewell.

"No, Captain, I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep that promise. I'll only be a nuisance if I stay." she insisted with a smile. She formally held out her hand, and Captain Jones shook it with a grin. "It's my time to be leaving."

"We'll miss ye, lass," he sighed. "You're turning into a damn fine pirate, right before our eyes. There's no denying it...What d'you plan to do now you're at Tortuga?"

"Oh, I imagine I'll find a new crew to join the ranks of, annoy the hell out of 'em for a few good months, then come back here and start the cycle again."

"Well, whenever you're 'round here, keep an eye out for the _Banshee_, will ye?"

"Of course," she said, nodding. She sighed, running her fingers over the smooth, wooden wheel. "I'm certainly going to miss Her."

"Aye, and she'll miss you," the Captain agreed. "But, if ever we should come across ye again, there'll always be a place for ye on the _Banshee._"

"I don't doubt it...Now, I believe we've made this goodbye far longer than it needs to be. So, thank you, Captain Jones. It's been a pleasure." she shook his hand a final time, and the Captain, not bothering with words, only smiled. She stepped away from the helm, and, waving goodbye to the crew, stepped down the gangplank onto the dock. She stopped at the end, and let her hands sit loosely on her hips.

So. Tortuga.

_A/N - Well, I think that covers everything, past-wise. The next chapter will skip ahead a few months, and then I can get straight into the meat of the story._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - My Goodness, I've been gone a long while. It's been nearly six months since last I updated. I do apologize from the bottom of my heart, although I won't try to make excuses. I could tell you I didn't get any chances what with school work and such, but that would just be a lie. I've had plenty of chances. I've simply been lazy. So once again - sorry times a million. Hope you enjoy the next chapter._

"EEP!" Clara shrieked, tumbling to the ground and landing sharply on her face. Her first few steps off water were always a bit clumsy. No matter how hard she tried, she could never prepare herself for the steadiness of solid earth after extended periods on the shaky decks of a ship.

Growling, she raised herself slowly from the dirt. She absentmindedly attempted to brush the soil from her clothes, too distracted to notice the irony of this action. Her once-white tunic was already so caked with blood and dirt from her most recent voyage that a few more specks of dust was certainly not going to do much more damage. The shirt was also ripped practically to shreds, and her brown breeches weren't in much better condition. Her hair was greasy - she had chopped off the whole mess of glossy strands with her sword so that the black locks now hung sloppily around her face, barely reaching her earlobes. Her skin was as pale as ever, despite constant abuse from the hot, Caribbean sun.

Having just arrived once again to the beloved island of Tortuga, Miss Gray had just finished up good-byes with her most recent crew - the men of _The Jessica_, a small but sturdy pirate ship under the command of one Captain Beckett. _The Jessica_ had been Clara's home for nearly two and a half months. Her share from the crew's most recent..._job _had left the girl with enough money for two weeks of food, hopefully with enough left over to find her some new attire, aware that her current garments were much the worse for wear.

Successfully having clambered to her feet and found a decent center of balance, Clara set off into the chaos of the pirate community. She stepped confidently into the tavern - a favorite locality of most in this town. The quality of the ship's food supply had been going sharply downhill by the time they reached Tortuga, and Clara was interested in finding herself something to eat that wasn't stale or molding.

It was barely eleven in the morning, and the tavern was already crawling with drunks. A smile on her face, she stepped carefully around the boozed-up riff-raff, and made her way to the bar.

"What'll it be, Miss?" asked the tender, as he sloppily cleaned out a large mug.

Clara sighed, looking around at the rest of the inhabitants of the unkempt restaurant, and decided to resign herself to joining the ranks of the intoxicated. "I'll have a glass of rum, thank you." she said with a polite smile. It had been a whole year since Clara had left her home, but no amount of time spent with pirates would ever fully rid Clara of the habitual manners that her mother had carved into her brain. The man placed her drink on the bar as she slid her hand into the pocket of her breeches, searching for the proper amount of coins. Dropping a few into the man's hand, she grabbed her rum and gazed wistfully over the crowd of rum-soaked miscreants.

Now nineteen years old, Clara had not once regretted her decision to join up for a life of piracy. Her aptitude for swordplay became more and more obvious by the day, although there was no denying that her skill with any form of firearm was spectacularly limited. Despite constant efforts to improve, her aim was tragically off. But she was content with a sword in her hand and had, in fact, managed to steal quite a beautiful blade from a rich merchant several months previous.

Clara's reputation had been spreading, albeit not very fast. But people _were _catching on, however gradually, that there was a bright young miss out there that had come very far in only one year of piracy. A large part of her gaining infamy was stemming from the talk that her previous Captains had been spreading, and her gratitude to them was endless. Each time she came to Tortuga, it was more and more likely that she'd find a Captain that had heard her name and would invite her to come aboard.

A young man stumbled abruptly into the small, slovenly tavern and scrambled up to the bar, snagging a seat by Clara. He was rather short and slender with a mop of dark blonde hair perched atop his head.. He clearly hadn't shaved for several days. Clara sat in silence, sipping her rum, as the newcomer ordered one for himself, even though Clara could tell he certainly didn't need it.

"'Ellotherelove!" he slurred, giving Clara a warm, if not suggestive, smile. "'Ow're you this mornin'?"

"Why, I'm absolutely wonderful. And how are you, my dear sir?" She replied coolly. The corner of Clara's mouth curled into a smirk and she raised an eyebrow, as if to say 'You are surely even more plastered than I thought, to think that you could possibly be getting any further with me than polite conversation.' He didn't take the hint.

"I'm doin' quite fine, meself," he said, looking her up and down. She tried to contain her laughter, knowing full well that if he tried anything, she'd have her sword at his throat in half a second. It was almost a shame he didn't realize that.

In a failed attempt to act smooth, the man clumsily threw one arm around Clara's shoulders, and she instantly pulled out her precious blade.

"That's quite enough of that, thank you," she said, holding her sword steadily against the man's chest. "If you'll kindly move three seats away from me, you can go back to enjoying what must be your ninth drink this morning in - and I really can't stress this word enough - _silence_, and I'll be happy to do the same. Now go on." she gave him her sweetest smile, and a pat on the head, as though she were a mother trying to gently teach her child a lesson by sending him into the corner for a time-out.

During her mild outburst, Clara had become entirely oblivious to all other goings-on in the little tavern. Without realizing it, another man had walked in the door. This one was taller with a more muscular physique and skin that seemed to have taken quite the beating from the sun, bar brawls, and god knows what else. His black hair was long, thick, and tangled, with a few colorful beads braided into it. His clumsy, faltering steps suggested that he too had already ingested quite a bit of alcohol that morning, but in fact he was completely sober at the moment.

The man instantly spotted Clara pulling her sword on her new acquaintance at the bar, and hurried over to see what all the fuss was about.

"Now, what's all this then?" he asked, confusion in his eyes. "Just who do you think you are, attacking a defenseless young drunk, Miss?" He realized in seconds that these words were a mistake. The girl he was interrogating stood slowly, a dangerous expression on her face as she stared fiercely into his eyes.

"_I _am the girl that this 'defenseless young drunk' just tried to take advantage of, thank you very much. Who the hell are you?" she shot back.

A puzzled expression hit the man's face, and he turned to the drunk who had been so awkwardly flirting with Clara. "Is this true, Mr Darby?" he asked loudly. Darby didn't open his mouth, but the sheepish way he avoided eye contact was answer enough. Shaking his head, the tall man groaned and turned back to Clara.

"My sincerest apologies, love. Both for his bad manners and my own. Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Captain Jack Sparrow. Mr Darby here is a fairly recent addition to my crew, and he's got a bit of learnin' to do. I do hope there's some way we can repay you?" he gave her a charming, hopeful smile, littered with gold teeth.

Clara, whose face had lit up at the word 'Captain' was now smiling. "Perhaps there is..." she said slowly. He rose an eyebrow at the girl expectantly. "You said Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"I did, indeed."

"Which would mean that you have a ship?" she asked hopefully.

"It does..." he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Well, Mister Sparrow...I don't suppose there's any chance I could secure a spot of my very own aboard your ship?" she finished, chewing her lip.

Jack laughed. "'Fraid not, love. Already got more than a full house on _The Pearl_. Just haven't got space to spare. Can't afford to be lettin' no little girls aboard."

Again, that startling look came into her eyes. "Little girl?" she repeated incredulously. "I'm nineteen, thank you, and I've been traveling around with pirates for over a year now. I'm completely able. Probably more use than that sleazy soul over there!" she tossed her hand in the direction of Darby.

"Alright, that was completely uncalled for." Jack said, referring to the way she spoke of Darby. _But not entirely untrue, I imagine,_ He thought to himself. "But I appreciate the passion..." he narrowed his eyes and chewed his tongue, as if appraising her. "So, I'll tell you what I'm going to do. You can hop aboard for a bit. Try and prove yourself as a worthy pirate and whatnot." he shrugged. "Hell, you can even have his spot." he nodded toward Darby. "More trouble'n he's worth." he said, speaking over Darby's loud complaints. The young girl grinned gleefully at having found a new ship to board within half an hour of reaching shore. Jack grabbed Clara's hand and led her out the door of the tavern, weaving in and out of the drunks that scattered the floor.

"This way to _The Pearl_, love..."

_A/N - That felt good. Hope you liked it. I thought some of the stuff toward the end was a little late, but it is 3 in the morning, so I'm not being too hard on myself. Review appreciated as always! Much love._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N - Huzzah for Emily getting some writing done!! (Sincerest apologies for speaking in third person...It happens). Wheeeeee! Although, if I continue my pattern, then I'll probably be going on another six-month hiatus after I post this chapter. Damn. Let's all cross our fingers against it, shall we? The semester's almost over, and next semester looks like it'll be super-easy, so hopefully I'll have a bit more free time/energy/motivation. I'm having fun with this story, especially now that Jack's been painted into the picture. Also, I'd like to give a shout out to one Miss Market Square Heroes, who I don't actually know, but thought I'd mention anyway, because she left me a nice comment that made me smile when I was having a bad day, and therefore deserves to be shouted-out to. So, thank you for that. Jesus, my author notes are long. I'm going to stop now, and ask that you forgive that, as well._

"Just a bit further...down this way..." Jack was muttering, almost to himself, as he and Clara made their way down the docks. After a quick pit-stop to grab Clara some new garb, they had come immediately to the harbor to board _The Black Pearl_. A good name for a ship, Clara had thought. Majestic, yet haunting. Like something from an eerie dream.

"Ahhhh, there she is!" Jack said with a satisfied smile, stopping in front of one of the largest ships tied up at the dock. A shiver ran down Clara's spine at the sight of the thing. It was magnificent and almost startling to look at. Her eyes ran down the length of it, her mouth open slightly.

"She's...beautiful," Clara breathed, eyes wide and glossy, admiring the gorgeous ship.

Jack nodded in agreement. "Aye, that she is," he said, glowing with pride as he gazed at his _Pearl_. He cast his eyes toward Clara. "Care to climb aboard, love?"

Reluctantly, Clara let her eyes fall away from the masterpiece that was _The Black Pearl _and looked to Jack. "I'd love to." she replied. In an amusing imitation of a gentlemen, Jack extended his hand to Clara with a flourish. She took it with a grin and he led her onto the deck.

Being onboard was almost more wonderful than her first view of the ship. The decks were polished and tidy - unusual for a pirate ship, and a portion of the crew was already hurrying about, preparing to set sail.

"You're lucky you caught us when you did," Jack said. "We're leaving Tortuga this afternoon." Clara smiled, thrilled at her good fortune. "Ah! Barbossa, there you are, my good man!"

A much older man approached Clara and Jack. He had a gaunt, waxy face, and long, dark gray hair and a matching beard that hung in shaggy waves. His black eyes were hollow and threatening, despite the smile that traced his thin lips.

"Good mornin', Captain," said Barbossa with forced cheeriness.

"Clara, this is my first mate, Mr Barbossa," said Jack, gesturing to the man, who gave a nod and a smile. "Barbossa, this the most recent addition to our crew, Miss Gray. Care to show her the ropes? I've got all sorts of unnecessary orders I should be shouting at the rest of the bunch right about now."

"Of course, sir," Barbossa complied with a smile. They exchanged a casual salute, and Jack gave a quick wave to Clara before wandering off to the head of the deck where he proceeded to bark things like "Hurry it up, you lazy scoundrels!" or "You call that clean?! Swab...er...better!" making no effort to conceal the extreme amount of glee he was getting from being in charge. Catching Clara's eye, he gave her a wink, to which she responded with a snicker and roll of the eyes.

"This way, Miss Gray," said Barbossa. His voice was steady and calm, with a strange lilt to it. Clara took her eyes off Jack and turned to the first mate. He gestured to two doors below the quarterdeck, and Clara followed him into the lower decks...

* * *

"WEIGH ANCHOR!" Clara could hear Jack bellowing from the helm. It was early evening, and the crew was scrambling to ensure everything was in order to set sail. The first mate had led Clara through the ship until, desperate to escape Barbossa's ominous presence, she assured him she was familiar enough with everything.

With each passing moment, Clara became more impressed with the ship. The lay-out was beautifully designed for easy maneuvering of the decks. Her feet quickly grew accustomed to the floor plan and in no time, she was wandering around, weaving in and out of rooms with ease.

Clara hurried to the deck to catch a last glimpse of Tortuga before she and the rest of the inhabitants of _The Pearl _sailed toward the setting sun. The island was dressed with pinky-golden twilight, and lanterns could be seen flickering into life throughout the town. The whole image was strikingly innocent, considering the chaotic mess of drunks and vagabonds that made up it's population. Clara allowed herself a grin, her keen sense of irony setting in.

She looked up to the helm, where Jack stood, ready to steer his beloved ship away from Tortuga and into the open ocean. She gazed up at his formidable silhouette with an admiring smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. How she longed to be captain of her very own ship...

Suddenly realizing that she most likely had a duty she ought to be performing, she tore her gaze away from the Captain and rushed off to help a few others haul the anchor out of the water.

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow awoke with a start when his empty bottle of rum rolled slowly off the desk on which his head had been resting, and crashed to the floor. He slowly lifted his head, trying to rub away the ache in his neck, and stood. He grabbed his tri-cornered hat, which had also slipped to the floor while he slept, and placed it jauntily atop his head, then stumbled out onto the deck.

He squinted through the early morning light, which was being reflected elegantly off the gentle ocean waves, and peered around the deck. Most of the crew was still asleep. Clara was one of few who had already wandered out of bed, but she wasn't busy at work like the rest of the early-risers. Instead, she was standing peacefully on the starboard edge of the deck, leaning on the rail with her head tilted ever-so-slightly to the right, as she watched the sun drag itself sluggishly out of the turquoise waters that sat at the horizon.

Clara had heard the opening and subsequent closing of the cabin door, then the awkward, shuffling footsteps signifying that the Captain was awake and on deck. She smiled very slightly, and tried to keep the grin from growing when she realized that the footsteps were coming in her direction.

"Morning, love," Jack said with a yawn and a drowsy smile, leaning on the rail next to her. "How long've you been up?"

"Morning, Captain," responded Clara. She shrugged. "Maybe an hour or two. Couldn't really say..."

Sparrow followed her gaze, which was darting all over the seascape before them. Trying to soak the whole image in before she started her duties.

"It's hard to keep my eyes off it," Clara said, sensing Jack's stare. "It was always that way when I lived on land...Not a habit my mother was a big fan of, I can tell you." she snickered for a moment, but the grin quickly faded at the thought of her mother. Clara had often wondered what her parents had done when they'd found her to be missing. When the waves of guilt from abandoning them were at their worst, they were almost unbearable, but Clara managed to cope by reminding herself that she'd have gotten nowhere if she'd stuck with them. Her home offered no possibilities for a young woman, outside of getting married, and the chances of finding a decent man on that island were slim.

Still...She wouldn't mind knowing how her parents were getting on...

* * *

After several months of searching, Clara's parents had given up any hope of finding their daughter. "I knew you shouldn't have let her wander the town by herself!" Misses Gray would often snap at her husband. "She was so young...So vulnerable..."

Of course, they'd both heard the rumors. It had been over a year since the girl's disappearance, and still people whispered in the taverns about hearing that sweet, young Clara Gray had joined up with pirates.

Clara's mother had denied all the while that there could be any truth to this gossip. However, while his wife preferred to assume their daughter had died rather than consider the possibility that she had become a common criminal, Mister Gray embraced the idea with open arms. His daughter had always been an adventurous creature, no matter how hard her mother tried to squash it out of her. The rumors were true. He was sure of it, and he loved the idea of his only daughter journeying throughout the ocean.

He kept his thoughts to himself, though. Surely, if his wife knew how he felt, she'd strangle him while he slept...

_A/N - This chapter could have gone better, I think, but overall it's decent enough. I admit it's a bit shorter than usual, due (in no small way) to that friggin author's note at the beginning. Good lord, I can ramble...Anywho, I will remind you as usual that reviews are much loved (note the shout out in previously-mentioned Author's Note), and I will try very, very, very hard not to skip out on you guys for the next six months. Thumbs Up._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N - Sorry that took so long. But I suppose one month is better than six, eh? Bet I had you all worried there for a bit. Anywho - not a lot to say, other than that I hope you like the chapter._

"Smooth sailing ahead, Captain!" Clara called cheerily from her roost in the crow's nest. She'd been on look-out duty that morning, telescope at the ready.

Captain Sparrow was standing, hands on hips, on the deck. The ship was alive with activity - men working the sails, scrubbing the decks, and generally scurrying to ensure the _Pearl_ was in tip-top shape. Jack surveyed the bustling men, and shouting the occasional order.

A smile formed on his lips at the sound of Clara's enthusiastic trill. He squinted into the sunlight, looking toward the crow's nest, where he could see Clara's slender form silhouetted against the dazzling, blue sky, and gave her a nod to signal that he'd heard her.

Pulling her telescope once more to her eye, Clara gave one last look-around, seeking out any merchant ships or nasty-looking storm clouds that might be coming their way. Satisfied that there was nothing but water in every direction, she made her way back down to the deck, cheeks slightly pink from the hour she'd spent sitting up beneath the hot sun.

Two weeks had passed since Clara joined up with the inhabitants of the _Black Pearl _and she'd already grown quite attached to the crew. Among them were William, the boatswain; Cuddy, the helmsman; and Anthony, the gunner. Plus a multitude of other men doing various jobs.

Still, it was Mr Barbossa that Clara kept her eye on most of all. The man was like a ghoul floating, silent but threatening, about the decks of the ship. He had an eerie ability to sneak up on her, and always had a strange glint in his eye when he spoke to her. She could never tell if it was animosity, or just pretension, but she didn't like it.

"Good afternoon, Captain Sparrow!" Clara said lightly, after having descended from her post in the crow's nest.

"Afternoon, love," Jack said, with a vague tip of his hat, looking past the girl so he could continue to watch the rest of the crew. After a moment, however, his eyes met hers, and a mischievous smirk crossed his lips. "Well, no trouble on the deck." he said pointedly. "Don't s'pose you'd like to join me in my quarters? We can enjoy eachother's company..?"

Classic Jack. Always with the innuendos. This jest had become a fairly frequent conversation between Clara and himself, even though her answer would invariable be as such:

She slapped him with all her might across the face. "No thank you, Captain, I'm quite alright." she said, then gave him a sweet smile. However, there was no denying the minor flutter her heart would give whenever he suggested it, with that sly smile of his. It was a difficult act to keep up, but Clara couldn't have the rest of the crew knowing she was falling for the charming, albeit impulsive, captain.

"Actually, I should probably go down to the galley and start on lunch," she said, blushing only slightly with chagrin, well aware that cooking was a stereotypically feminine job. But she was the best cook on board, and everyone knew it. "You know, I've never met a group quite as easily satisfied as pirates. I could boil their shirts and feed it to them as stew, and they'd probably kiss my feet just for giving them a hot meal." she shrugged and shook her head with a grin. A few nearby crew members who had overheard her opened their mouths to argue, but closed them quickly. Who were they to deny the truth

* * *

"HEY!" Jack's voice boomed from the helm. It was early afternoon, and the majority of the crew was eating the lunch Clara had prepared in the galley below deck. "I want the whole lot of you standing in front of me in thirty seconds!" he called. 

The group threw themselves from their seats and rampaged up to the deck. Jack only called the crew up like that if there was another ship coming their way. Pay dirt.

The men flooded onto the deck, and Jack tossed his telescope into the crowd. Clara snatched it out of the air.

"Starboard side!" Jack shouted. The crew moved as one to the starboard side of the ship with Clara in the lead, and pressed up against the rail, squinting into the distance. Clara held the telescope to her eye and immediately spotted the ship in question.

"Merchant ship!" she called over her shoulder to the rest of the men. "A schooner. It's close, we can overcome it in under ten minutes."

The men gave a cheer and scattered to their stations across the deck, preparing for the siege. Clara kept her telescope aimed at the ship with a smile on her lips. Easy. They'd blow some holes in the hull and climb aboard before the merchants knew what hit 'em. It was a small ship, manned by a crew of no more than ten. Probably carrying spices or something of the like. She looked up and down the length of it as _The Pearl_ drew closer and closer.

Then, if only for a moment, she caught sight of the name of the ship. The white paint was chipped and peeling, painted jaggedly, as if by an unsteady hand, but she read the letters clear as day:

_The Clara._

Her jaw dropped, and her hand fell limp to her side, the telescope slipping out of her fingers while she stared at the ship. Her blood was suddenly icy and her head was pounding. It couldn't possibly be...

Suddenly, the feeling came back to her extremities and she remembered herself.

"JACK!" she shrieked, turning around and racing to the helm, where Jack was standing with a pleasant smile on his face and humming to himself. She didn't recognize the tune, but knowing Jack, he was probably making it up. The merchant ship was getting close, and Clara knew she had to act fast.

"Jack, you have to call it off," she said in a trembling voice, shaking her head anxiously. "We can't attack the ship. We'll find money somewhere else."

Jack scoffed at her. "This is a highly unusual time to be getting a conscience." Jack said. "What's gotten into you?"

"Jack - listen to me, didn't you see the name of the ship?" she asked desperately. Jack raised an eyebrow questioningly. "_The Clara_, Jack. It's called _The Clara_."

Jack's dazed smile reappeared on his face. "Is that all, love? That's a very interesting coincidence...We'll have to find you a souvenir..."

"NO!" she shouted. He looked slightly startled for a moment, but shrugged it off and turned back to the wheel. "Jack, pay attention." he nodded to her, but he clearly wasn't listening. "It's not a coincidence we're attacking a ship with my name. That ship is named _for _me." Jack had started humming again. She wrapped her slender fingers around his wrist, and yanked as hard as she could so Jack would face her. "Jack. That is my _father's ship._"

Jack furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, as if the words made no sense to him. He looked the girl up and down, trying to find some trace of a lie. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not sure how to respond. They were dangerously near the schooner and the crew was preparing to fire the cannons.

Barbossa stood several feet away, listening to the conversation and awaiting Jack's response with a bemused grimace sitting on his face.

"Are you sure it's your father, love?" Jack said, finally.

"I'm positive." she said steadily.

Jack sighed uncomfortably, torn between sparing the girl's feelings and getting his hands on some money for the first time in several weeks. Finally, with a frown on his face, he looked out onto the deck, calling to his crew.

"Change of plans, you lot!" he shouted.

Clara sighed with relief, and stood on her toes to give Jack a peck on the cheek. She then spun around and hurried back down to the deck and leaned herself against the rail, just as they passed by the other ship Her eyes darted over the deck of _The Clara_, seeking out her father. Most of the crew of the tiny merchant ship were peering nervously at _The Black Pearl_, certain they were about to be attacked.

And there he was. She knew it was her father's boat, and that he would be there, but seeing him was as shocking as a blow to the stomach. She gave a slight gasp, her hands flying to cover her mouth. He was hunched over a few crates, searching for something, but she knew it was him. Almost as if he sensed her eyes on him, Mister Gray suddenly looked up. Time slowed as their eyes met, and Clara smiled weakly.

Her father's eyes grew as big as saucers, and he shot across the deck to stand against the rail, nearly throwing himself into the churning waters below. Clara felt her eyes sting, and she blinked away tears. She felt so dizzy, it was a shock she hadn't fainted yet. She summoned the strength to raise her right hand and wave feebly. Her father continued to stare incredulously.

They were too far from each other for Clara to be heard over the roaring ocean, but Mister Gray clearly read the words "I love you" on her lips.

And then, just like that, the ship had passed. Clara's father was out of sight. She continued to stare at the spot of air where his face had been, moments before. She had had no idea how much she'd missed his face - his kind smile and passionate eyes. Her bottom lip trembled, and whiteness clouded her vision. The world went out like a light and Clara fell to the deck of the ship, unconscious.

* * *

Onboard _the Clara,_ Mister Gray continued to stare blankly ahead, unblinking. Her hair was short, her face was smudged with dirt, and her clothes were in tatters, but he had recognized his daughter instantly. Even across a length of ocean, he could see the eyes that were so uncannily like his own. 

He stood for several more minutes, staring into the gentle waves of the ocean, unable to speak. His crew members muttered amongst themselves, unsure of what was happening. Finally, he turned around, and realized how shocked the crew seemed. None knew what to say or do. Mister Gray choked out an order:

"Keep sailing straight ahead," he said softly, trying to keep his voice even. "No use getting worked up...Awful good luck we weren't attacked..."

He pushed through the group and into his cabin, not sure whether he should be thrilled or devastated. On the one hand, his daughter was alive and looked well. His assumptions had been correct - the girl had followed her desires and was doing what she had always wanted. But seeing her face again, for such a minuscule amount of time, tore endlessly at his heart. He missed his daughter so very desperately, and seeing her only reminded him of it...

_A/N - Okay, to be perfectly honest with you, I have no idea if that was good or not. It certainly didn't go in the direction I thought it would. It got kind of crappy at the end (a common trait in my stories) mostly because I just really wanted to finish it. I dunno, tell me what you think. I may take the chapter down and rewrite parts of it._


End file.
